Say Goodbye to Innistrad
by Shorewall
Summary: This little ficlet was written around the time Eldritch Moon came out. I wanted to explore my feelings towards the events of that set, and the destruction of Innistrad. The POV character was written as a G/R/U Planeswalker, which may lend insight into how I decided to write his reactions, but it was primarily a reflective exercise.


He looked at the world around him. In the distance, he could see that apocalyptic specter rising over Thraben. He didn't have words to describe its size or power. Even here, in the plains heading towards Nephalia, he could feel the waves of its influence, calling to him, inviting him to be One. It was tempting, pulling on his every emotion. Only his rational thought process could work out that he shouldn't, couldn't give in. He had seen the abominations that had once been denizens of this plane. There was no coming back from that, and he wasn't done exploring the multiverse yet.

There was nothing here for him. Innistrad has always struck him as a hopeless place. Everything here seemed to target and feed on the hapless humans. The only thing that made life worth it were the angels. Led by Avacyn, they had been a beacon of light that protected and inspired the human inhabitants.

And now, that was a thing of the past. Something had affected them, and they had turned on the humans they had once protected. The humans fought back, but he knew it was hopeless. Whether they were able to survive the onslaught of angels, they would fall to the vampires, or zombies, or werewolves, or demons. It would have been fitting to just let the end come.

But they had fought back. Because they didn't know. That this whole plane was a giant farm. Set up by the Ancient Vampire Planeswalker, Sorin. He had created Avacyn, the Archangel, the Protector, to guard the humans. Avacyn, the symbol of all that was good and true. Created by a vampire, to protect his cattle. To protect his vampire brethren from exhausting their food supply, even if they didn't understand his intentions.

He had discovered that tidbit during his infiltration of Thraben, after Avacyn's return. He had been trying to see if there were any interesting artifacts, before things got good and settled again. Instead, he had found a book, containing the secret that took all victory away. He had been forced to leave it behind when an angel found him trespassing. The knowledge had hurt, even though he wasn't originally from this plane. But his brain had rationalized it. In a world of death and darkness, it was yet true that Avacyn and the angels that followed her, were the only good thing.

Now Avacyn was gone. He had heard the tale. He sighed. Even in her madness, he had found her worthy of admiration. He couldn't bring himself to feel empathy for the doomed human residents of this plane. He had even had the thought that if the humans were eliminated, then the Vampires would soon follow. That thought had brought a grim smirk to his face.

Now she was gone, and humans had been committing the ultimate blasphemy, of hunting angels. They didn't seem to care that they should already be dead. They owed their lives to Avacyn, and if she had wanted to take those lives, they should have relinquished them willingly!

He shook his head. He wasn't sure how much of these thoughts were his, or were brought on by the ever present, maddening influence of...that. In a few minutes, he was going to leave this place behind forever. He had always hated this place. Hated the existence of vampires and demons. Hated the destructiveness of werewolves. Hated the death of good people, and angels. But now, that was all in the past. Nothing would remain, in the face of...that.

He thought back to the first time he had arrived here, and met the guardian of this realm. No, not Avacyn. Him. That ancient vampire who had created her. Sorin. Full of death and as removed from mortals as he himself was from an ant. It always goaded him when he met someone stronger than him. He knew they were out there, but he didn't like to be confronted with them. It was like being a child. You were at their mercy, to come or go.

This encounter had been no different. Sorin had tried to impress him. He had stayed non-committal. Sorin had then exercised his power, and convinced him. And what was it all for? Not to cause trouble on his stupid little plane? He hadn't been planning on that anyway! He had been humiliated, and his pride touched, for no reason!

Ever since then, he had made sure to play nice when visiting this plane. There weren't many reasons to come, but there were a few scientists who were doing interesting things. He had to admit, there had been benefits to coming here.

But now that he could see it all unravelling, he felt a pang of schadenfreude. Serves you right, Sorin. Even someone as powerful as you can't always have it how you like. He supposed that this was the closest to comeuppance the ancient walker would ever get. Unless Sorin decided to stick around. He actually let out a laugh at that. If that were the case, then either Sorin would die, along with his precious farm, or he would save it, and then the humans could live on in their unknowing servitude.

Despite what he had thought before, he wouldn't rue that outcome. Some life was better than no life at all. A little feeling niggled him to go and help, to do something for those people, who were fighting for their lives. He laughed again, regretfully shaking his head. It had been a good feeling, a good thought. But there was no future in it. He hadn't lived this long with his lifestyle by being stupid. Or at least, not incredibly stupid.

No, it was time to say goodbye. Now that he was thinking about it, it actually made him sad. He felt a few tears leak out onto his cheeks. He sniffled. He didn't like this feeling. He thought again of going to help, doing something. But then he just looked again at that massive...thing on the horizon. Nope. No hope, no future, no chance. It was so big, floating effortlessly through the air, corrupting anything that got close. And he could feel it reaching into his mind.

That was what sealed it for him. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, and he was no good to anyone if he became one of those tentacle things. Nope, time to bail. He made a little salute, paying mental tribute to the lives that would be lost. He knew no one would appreciate his concern, but it made him feel a little better. Then he concentrated, and planeswalked away, never to return.


End file.
